Putrid
by insertuserhere
Summary: Zombie themed AU: Recently Immigrated from Russia Annie Leonhardt is a anti-social teen who's sole purpose in life is to please her elders and to dance ballet. Annie wants to only live a quiet life, carefully rehearsed and timed to the metronome... But all is not well in the city of Trost and a new flu epidemic seems to be on quite the rise.


Annie Leonhardt pursed her lips and gently tucked the nude pink ballet slipper into the corner of her black duffel bag. She straightened her spine and quickly surveyed her bedroom, glancing for any misplaced possessions. When she felt satisfied with the state of her living quarters, she proceeded to strip off her night dressings in favor of her day clothes. Her powder blue night gown lay at her feet in a heap as she stepped from it to the direction of her dresser. While doing so she passed her vanity mirror and frowned deeply. Her reflection showed her tiny body stamped with angry red scars and sickening ink blot bruises.

As Annie shimmied her jeans over her bony hips, her sensitive ears picked up footsteps outside of her bedroom door. Reflexively, she pivoted on her heels to face the doorway as the the oak panel seemingly flew open and a mountain of a man came strutting into the small girl's territory.

It was a matter of moments before Annie had the intruder on their back as their accomplice stood horrified at the door. The heaving of her small chest caused the loose fabric of her shirt to lift and expose her midriff and consequently some of the frightening bruises that resided there. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as the crumpled man on the floor groaned in mild agony.

"Reiner" Annie spat viciously while glaring coldly at the massive blonde below her.

"Christ Anne, what were they teaching you over in Russia?!" Reiner Braun, Annie's cousin rubbed his left temple and pulled himself to his feet and winced slightly at a shooting pain in his right leg.

"Knock before enter. That is rule." Annie's english was still subpar, her angry voice was thick with a Russian accent. In her native tongue, Annie swore quietly at her ape of a relative and stood guarded. The boy standing in the hallway knocked gently on the opened door and Annie's eyes lifted to meet his. She recognized him as Bertholdt Fubar, her idiot cousin's friend who often visited the Braun household. He was a shy boy whom often perspired in her presence.

"What you want Bertholdt?" The dark haired boy flushed at the mention of his name and he fidget awkwardly. A sly grin spread over Reiner's face as he stepped beside his friend, clapping him loudly on the back and be began speaking very loose Russian to the blonde girl.

"Bertholdt was on his way out the door, and he wondered if you'd like a ride. I know it's snowing and you don't mind the cold, but you still don't quite know your way around Trost yet so he figured he'd lend a helping hand. Tis the season!" Annie turned her attention the confused sweating boy and nodded.

"Thank you. I will take ride to ballet. Yes." Annie lifted her bag from it's seat on her bed and walked to the doorway where the boys moved aside from her.

"Come now Bert, we want not be late." She headed downstairs first, passing the living room and then entering the lemon yellow kitchen where she had left her winter boots. As she walked through the doorway a homy sense immediately filled her as she was met with a blonde woman not much taller than herself.

Aunt Phoebe was Annie's mother's identical twin sister. From photographs Annie was able to see they shared the same kind face and warm eyes. Annie did not remember her mother very well as she'd only been five when her mother had been involved in a fatal car accident while being under the influence. Neither she nor her father ever forgave her for abandoning the two of them in such harsh conditions, but Annie tried to leave the past in the past where it belonged.

"Annie dear, are you leaving for dance now?"

"Yes. I am going. Bertholdt is driving me." Phoebe beamed at Annie's english. Whenever she was in the presence of Phoebe, the blonde girl always made an extra effort to speak better english than she usually would in the company of others.

"Well tell that boy to be extra careful, the roads are slippery and dangerous this time of year." Annie nodded firmly and proceeded to the back door mat where he yellow boots were kept. She knelt against the wooden door frame and slide her socked feet into the rubbery insides. Bertholdt and Reiner soon joined her in the kitchen. Bertholdt was equipped with his own snow gear and in his large tanned hand clutched the dark fabric of Annie's coat.

"Here you are Anne." The winter garment was handed off to her and she shrugged it around her seemingly frail shoulders.

"Thank you. Do we leave now?" Bertholdt removed his keys from his coat pocket and nodded and the two ventured from the warmth of the Braun's kitchen to the frigid air of a snow covered Tuesday afternoon. In the drive sat Bertholdt's worn 1999 blue Chevy Astro minivan coated in snow. Annie had seen the car in the driveway many times, but she'd never so much as touched the door handle.

"I know it isn't a horse driven carriage, but it's what I have so what am I gonna do?" Bertholdt shrugged his shoulders and awkwardly unlocked the van before getting inside, Annie followed suit. When she seated herself in the passenger's side, she noticed that like Bertholdt's her seat was pushed very far back.

"Sorry Annie, Reiner was in here last and he's kind of a beefy guy… There's a lever on the side of the seat that you can adjust and it'll scoot your chair forward."

"Lever?" Annie questioned as she sat puzzled for a moment and racked her brain for the Russian equivalent to the stream of sentences Bertholdt had uttered.

"Oh right… I forgot you don't speak English natively. No problem… I uh… Annie I could help you if you don't mind me touching you." Touch. That word rang clear in Annie's mind. The act of skin to skin contact. Bertholdt wanted to touch her? No, there was certainly a logical reason to what he said. Reiner may have been a meathead but he was an excellent judge of character and would never dream of putting Annie or anyone else in harm's way. So she did the reasonable thing and obliged.

"Please proceed or we will be late for my lesson." Bertholdt nodded and very carefully turned to her direction and leaned over her lap. Annie held her breath as the scent of his cologne wafted up her nose. From the richness of the aroma she guessed the fragrance was rather pricy. Bertholdt's long arms curled around her legs and to her passenger door where she felt his hands fumbling against the plastic siding. She heard a clicking sound and her seat slowly rolled forward.

"Tell me when you are comfortable and I'll lock it into place." Annie sat silently for a few more seconds before her feet were backed comfortably against the floor of the car.

"Here please." Immediately Bertholdt released the grip and the seat noiselly jutted into place. The large tan boy withdrew from her lap and retracted back into his own seat while flashing her a pearly grin.

"Great, now we're good to go!" He proceeded to start the engine and slowly move backwards out of the Braun's driveway and then down the street that fed into their suburb. Annie's attention was soon drawn to the window. She wasn't in favor of leaving the house often, aside from school and dance. Though now Rose Academy of Higher Education was closed for Holiday break and Annie continued to become an introvert. The snow alongside the roads was dirty and ugly, nothing like the pure white fields of snow she knew as a child….

Annie had arrived in America almost a month ago now, badly beaten and without a home. She remembered she sat in the airport for nearly three days before anyone seemed to notice that the girl was a recurring visitor at the magazine terminal. At that time she only knew how to say three things in English…

"I am Annie Leonhardt."

"That is exact change."

"May I please have some more french toast?"

When airport security brought her in for questioning she was frightened and confused. She nearly handed them their asses before a nearby man who overheard the dispute began speaking to her in Russian and explained the situation.

She sat in that waiting room for what felt like ages, the trunk that held all of her belongings was her only solace in the hectic realm she'd been thrust into. Her father had told her before this entire mess began that he was sorry, and that one day she'd understand his actions. She doubted him entirely but obeyed his wishes as she was expected to.

When her aunt arrived she was swept into a great hug that carried the cloud of lilac scented perfumes and warmth. Annie felt entirely comfortable with the situation as she had not seen the woman who held her so tenderly in almost ten years but her face matched with the hazy image of her deceased mother so her posture remained emotionless as Phoebe continued to squeeze her with bone breaking strength. When the woman released her, Annie swore mightely in Russian prior to having her left arm swatted. Her bright eyes turned upward and an alarmed expression found itself on the usually stoic girl's face. She had been struck by someone, and aside from Papa, that never occurred. A look of mourning crossed her aunt's features as she said in nearly fluent Russian.

"When Wendy moved away with Vladimir I thought it appropriate to take a few courses. I never thought they would come in handy, but none of that swearing missy. You're a lovely girl and I won't have you speaking such obscenities."

"Annie." A warm hand rested on her shoulder and Annie's focus suddenly shifted as her small hands gripped the wrist of her offender. Bertholdt's dark eyes widened it brief fear before Annie regained composure and proceeded to lift her death vice.

"I am sorry. You startled me."

"No I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! I just wanted to let you know that we've arrived at the studio." True to his word the blue van was parked in the dance studio's lot. Annie unbuckled her seat belt and retrieved her black bag from the floor behind her seat, her hand reached to release the door handle before Bertholdt cleared his throat.

"Do you mind if I come in? I've got nothing better to do."

"Reiner said you wanted to go home."

"Reiner lied."

"Bastard." Annie spat in her native tongue and Bertholdt grinned.

"You can say that again."

"You gave me ride. I cannot stop you. If you wish to watch my dance you may come with." Bertholdt beamed and the two stepped from the car. He followed close behind her. Most people dwarfed her in comparison, but Bertholdt was a whole other story. Beside him she felt almost microscopic and found that slightly intimidating.

When they entered the building Annie veered to the right where the locker rooms were located. It was oddly quiet today, many of her classmates were absent from today's rehearsal it seemed. Annie did not mind nor complain, as she preferred the silence and she would be able to dance to her full potential this practice.

She emerged with her hair knotted eloquently atop her head in a neat bun, stark white tights that shaped to her muscled legs, and a solid black leotard that clung to her lithe body like second skin. In her hands she held a pair of pale pointe ballet slippers and she walked with grace to the rehearsal room, ignoring Bertholdt entirely. He took no offence to her sudden distance, and instead found himself giddy at the fact that he was able to see such an intimate side of the elfin like girl. Through a large glass window he was able to watch from the lobby room as Annie seated herself on the wooden floor and began the tedious process of stringing the silken strands of her shoes into neat bows. When the girl felt satisfied with their feel, she rose from her seat and lined herself at the bar where she proceeded to perform stretches and lifts Bertholdt would have found inhumanely possible.

It appeared that Annie perhaps was the only student in attendance and Bertholdt had overheard the instructor on her cellphone chatting about a flu-bug going around the city of Trost, and how she was feeling slightly under the weather but still came to work anyways. He too had heard of it, but remained healthy as a horse. His dark eyes watched and his ears strained as the melancholy chords of a piano began to quietly trill and Annie began to dance. The large tanned boy was lost in a world all of his own as each practiced step of the porcelain queen transported him to a realm of wonder as he could practically see the story of a miserable princess longing for her prince unfold before his eyes. Annie's intense steps suddenly became still and almost serene as the music became almost heavenly. An unreadable emotion glimmered in her eyes as she stared at what seemed directly at him, but was joined by another.

He knew this boy, this blonde haired boy whom was just inches taller than the porcelain queen. This boy, Armin Arlert wound his hands around Annie's tiny waist and spun her gently as the girl's pace became slow and almost romantic. Armin was friends with Reiner, he gave him special tutoring in english and pre-calculus… And now he was quite literally sweeping Annie off her small feet as Arlert lifted her with grace Bertholdt hadn't known he possessed. The boy gently set the small girl back on her feet and she began whirling on the tips of her toes with a speed that was almost dizzying before coming to an abrupt halt as did the music.

An awful wet cough echoed throughout the barren halls before silence rang in the tanned boy's ears. Suddenly, Annie stepped backward as her tiny hands reached to cover her mouth in horror, and the boy, Armin leapt to stand protectively in front of her. Immediately fear twisted in the observer's gut as he jumped to his feet and turned the door to the rehearsal room and barreled through the doorway.

The soles of his shoes made a shrill squeak as he pivoted to meet Annie and Armin's line of sight to where his mouth fell open in horror. The instructor, once a mildly attractive woman in her early thirties was rising from the piano bench. Scarlet shimmered around her mouth and stained her teeth while yellow-green pus oozed from inflamed sores on her face and arms. A damp, rotten smell crawled up his nostrils and embedded itself there as the sickening monstrosity let out a beastly howl before barreling at the trio of frightened teens.


End file.
